Festive spirits
by Kuri333
Summary: Some holiday indulgences can lead to bad decisions and terrible consequences. A/B Modern AU.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: A new modern take on my OTP, plus some additional holiday spirits.**

 **I don't own the characters, although I really enjoy playing with them.**

* * *

He had a dream. It must have been a dream. It got to be a dream.

One of those rare, wonderful dreams in which, for once, he had his desires fulfilled.

John keeps his eyes closed to better recall the images. He dreamt of a beautiful woman, of that beautiful woman of his office, kissing him. And then he dreamt about both of them sharing his bed and ragged breathing. It has been a wonderful dream indeed, with that irreal intensity that only belongs to his imagination.

Because if it isn't a dream, it will certainly become a nightmare of humongous proportions.

Still not daring to open his eyes, he takes a deep breath. He wants to kid himself that there is nothing strange about the air surrounding him. It is all normal. A regular albeit a little hung over morning, finding him tired of a very rare night of indulgence and celebration.

Nothing strange.

Of course, the second deep breath is like a slap in the face. There is no use to try to lie to himself. It will only make the truth all the more difficult to face. And now said truth has taken the form of a flowery scent filling his senses. A scent that was usually absent from his bedroom.

Because, it was his bedroom, wasn't it?

John risks opening his right eye a little. There is the nightstand, the lamp, the book he was reading two nights before. The curtains. Silvery sunlight entering through a gap. All so very reassuringly familiar.

Why then, is he so scared of opening his left eye as well?

Because he is being a coward. That is it and he knows it. But he can pretend he isn't for a while longer, can't he?

Movement next to his body told him otherwise. Coward or not, he has to face it. He has to face the fact that he is not alone. He opens both his eyes and, slowly, turns his head to the left, only to turn it back to the right in less than a second. A glimpse of golden hair cascading over a pillow. The form of a woman, lying on her stomach, hugging said pillow. Naked shoulders while the rest of the body is wrapped in his sheets. A body that, he knows, is very naked. Just like his.

He wants to groan, to yell, to hit his head hard against something. He does nothing of the sort, but looks at her again. Despite having moved a little, she seems to be fast asleep, her breathing deep and even. He wishes he could see her face, but then that will mean she could see his as well and he is definitely not ready for that. Truth to be told, he is not ready for anything at the moment.

Except maybe run for it.

No. He's no expert on one-night stands etiquette, but he is certain running from it is not the best policy.

First things first. Clothes. And getting off bed, away from the warmth of her body and the fantastic smell of her skin. Which is almost like running from it, only he won't go very far.

With a movement that makes his right knee protest as it hasn't in a long while - what exactly has he done the night before? - he stands up and heads outside the room and into the bathroom, without as much as a glance back.

* * *

She sighs, relieved. It took him forever to finally wake up and get off bed. What has he been waiting for all along? For her to wake up? Pillow talk? More sex?

It has been one of the most difficult things ever to stay still and try to keep her breathing even and slow, knowing very well that the man she has slept with was lying right next to her, awake, considering the sound of his constant fidgeting.

Suppressing a groan, Anna risks opening her eyes a slid. Their discarded clothes are all over the floor, her black bra on top of it all. The sight of it makes her feel hot in the face.

She closes her eyes again, listening intently. Water is running nearby. He must be in the bathroom. Could she possibly get out of bed, get dressed and leave his flat while he's in there? No, she can't. She won't be such a coward. It is bad enough to have a one night stand with a man that works for the same company than you do. Run for it will certainly make it infinitely worse when they eventually came face to face, as they are bound to.

She takes a deep breath. His scent is everywhere, maybe even on her own skin. She recognises his aftershave, a little touch of alcohol, only that might be hers, and something else that is distinctively his. Or so she learned the night before, when they were sharing certainly more than a bed. Has she at some point kissed his chest? She now groans aloud, muffling the sound on the pillow. Yes. She has a very clear memory of having done exactly that.

The sound of water stops and she stays absolutely still, her breath hitched in her throat.

Will he come to the bedroom again?

Will she be able to keep on pretending she is asleep?

Anna hears his steps getting closer and begs for him not to go back to bed. He does nothing of the sort, and a moment later, after the sound of fabric against fabric, she hears him walking away again.

It has to be now or never. She will get dressed at top speed, face him, and get out as fast as possible. And if she manages to get hit in the head by a gigantic truck so she can forget what happened, all the better.

She manages to do the first, having to untangle her knickers from the leg of his pants at top speed and realising just in time she was putting her jumper backwards. She fixes it and wishes for there to be a mirror, so she can at least be sure she doesn't look as messy as she feels. She can't find one of her socks anywhere and decides she doesn't really need it in the future, as she puts her boots on. Of course, that's a lie. Blisters on her toe in five minutes' time will make her regret the loss of said sock, but there is no time to dwell on that right now.

She looks around. Bag, check. Coat, check. Dignity, lost forever.

It won't get any better than this.

With a deep breath, she heads towards the corridor. If she recalls correctly, the exit should be at the end of it.

The penetrating scent of fresh brewed coffee makes her stop in her tracks. She could kill for a cup of that. Only, of course, there is one thing standing between her and that coffee. One somebody.

"Good morning," he says, rather hoarsely.

She feels her cheeks aflame. "Morning."

He is wearing a t-shirt and boxers, and she does her best to try not to look at him too much.

"I just made… would you like some coffee?" He seems to be as uncomfortable as she feels. No pillow talk later, then. Well, that's certainly a relief.

"Er… no, thanks. I'll be off, actually."

"Right," he says, awkwardly balancing her arms at his sides. She can't help to look and she almost gasps, as she sees the tip of what is unmistakably her missing sock, hanging from the elastic of his boxers. Lost forever too, then, definitely. He seems to be oblivious to the fact and she is not going to point it out. Not that it's her favourite pair of socks or anything.

"So…" she realises the two of them have been silent for a long moment. "I guess I'll see you around, then." She cringes. What a terrible thing to say. She doesn't want to see him around. Ever.

"Yeah… Do you… er… want a lift?"

"No, no," she almost cries. "I'll be fine. Bye."

And without waiting for him to walk her to the door, she gets there and a moment later, she is out.


	2. Chapter 2

" _I'm sorry I-"_

" _I just-"_

 _He looks up at the owner of the small hand that just collided with his, right over the last cup of eggnog. He knows Anna, Mary Crawley's assistant, even if they have hardly exchanged more than three phrases in a row. Their paths don't usually cross, her working on a different floor and her boss usually not dealing directly with his… who also happened to be the owner of the company and her father. Family business work, apparently, if there is some healthy distance between the members of said family._

" _Here," he says, handing her the cup. "You can have it."_

" _Oh, I couldn't possible snatch it from you like this," she says with a cheeky grin. Her eyes are bright and he wonders if this is just holiday spirits or if she, by any chance, has had one too many, just as he has._

" _I won't take it from you either," he says, smiling as well._

 _She looks around and finds some empty cups. Looking through one of them to make sure it's clean, she pours half of the contents of her cup, before giving him the second one._

" _Here. Cheers!"_

" _Cheers!" he echoes with a wide smile. "And happy Christmas, Anna."_

" _Happy Christmas to you, Mr Bates." Both made their cups clink and, a moment later, Anna is walking towards a small group of co-workers, leaving him smiling stupidly._

 _At some point somebody decides it's time to dance, and volunteers clean up an area usually occupied with desks and chairs. John knows it's time for him to blend in with the wallpaper. He hates this sort of feisty traditions but he knows better than to try to make up excuses for not being there._

" _Having fun, Bates?"_

" _Absolutely." He answers mechanically. Robert looks at him with an eyebrow arched in incredulity. John smiles, already thinking of ways to get out and back home as soon as possible without being rude._

 _"You could try the dance floor for once. Make a new Christmas tradition."_

" _I'm not the biggest fan of Christmas traditions, new or otherwise."_

" _That's nothing to be proud of," Robert says, looking around at the staff of his company. All of them seem to be having a great time and he is proud of it._

 _John scoffs. "Don't you have some mingling to do?"_

 _Just on cue Robert's wife Cora waves at them and he goes with a hearty chuckle, leaving John to lean against the wall and look distractedly at the dancing couples. Maybe after two or three more songs he will be able to go home unnoticed. He's not having a bad time, exactly, but he is tired and this sort of company gatherings are not his cup of tea. Slowly, almost casually, he manages to edge his way towards the entrance. Maybe once the next song starts he will be able to-_

 _"You look as if you were hiding."_

 _He looks at his side. Anna seems to have materialised out of no-where, which is strange because hers is a presence John finds hard to miss._

 _"You found me," he replies teasingly. "But no, I wasn't hiding. How come you're not over there?" He points at the couples and realises he has been glancing at her dancing with William, one of the junior staff, until Robert distracted him._

 _"I thought I'll come and keep you company."_

 _"Really? Thanks, that's very thoughtful."_

 _He watches as she bits her lip. "Actually, I wanted to know if you would like to dance. With me."_

 _The small amount of drowsiness went away instantly. "Dance?" He echoed, as if this is a word he is not familiar with._

 _"I've never seen you do it. I'm curious."_

 _He chuckles. "There's a reason why you haven't. Don't you care about your feet being crushed?"_

 _"Come on," she says, taking his hand on hers and pulling gently. "How bad can it be?"_

 _And that's when he realises he is both hopeless and drunker that he thought. Before he can really assess the situation, both are joining the group in the middle of the room, moving rather awkwardly to a slow tune that, according to John, is most definitely not designed for colleagues who rarely speak to one another, let alone anything else._

 _"Come on, Mr Bates," she smiles cheekily and places her free hand on his shoulder. As in a dream he seems to find the right spot on her back and suddenly it all makes sense. Only it doesn't, and the remaining fragments of John's rational mind keep on asking what the devil is going on, as Anna's small, warm body gets close to his. "How come you never dance?"_

 _"Injured knee. Old story," he manages to say. It's a sad excuse but somehow telling the truth, that he feels ridiculous when he does, doesn't seem to be a valid option._

 _"Does it hurt?"_

 _"Not now."_

 _She beams. "Then you should dance more frequently. It suits you."_

 _He chortles incredulously._

 _A long moment after, the impromptu DJ seems to feel that things have gone too quiet and changes the rhythm. John smiles at Anna, relieved to realise he hasn't completely lost his mind._

 _"I'll leave this to the experts, shall I?"_

 _"Spoilsport," she laughs, but follows him._

" _You should go back," he says when they stop a bit away from the dancers. "You're great at it."_

" _You've been watching then, have you?"_

" _Not watching, no. Staring." She grins at his feeble attempt of a joke and he wonders how come he didn't realise before what a beautiful smile she has._

" _Uuh." A voice behind him makes him jump. "You two are under the mistletoe._

 _Oh no._

 _Not that bloody, cursed, wretched mistletoe. If there is one Christmas tradition he most definitely hates is that of mistletoe. He doesn't even understand the point of it. Or its relation to the festivity. Or how it always turns out to be a terrible cliché. What's the point of kissing random people that happen to be standing next to you in the wrong place and at the wrong time, just because there is some plant over your heads? He actually mapped them all at the beginning, avoiding the spots whenever he went for a drink._

 _He was distracted by their conversation and both have walked right into that devil's trap. And instead of going unnoticed, it has to be right when a group of people is standing nearby, ready to point it out._

 _He hates that bloody mistletoe._

 _And he is ready to get the world know this, only Anna is standing right in front of him and does not seem at all bothered by it._

 _Just his luck._

 _The arguments melt, his ability to speak is gone, and Anna looks both shy and expectant. Some force that seems to come from outside of him compels John to lean down. A peck in the cheek will certainly do. But it never happens. Instead, their lips touch. And they linger there for what seems like an eternity, only it's not and he wants to protest aloud as soon as it's over._

 _Anna is smiling and he feels hot in the face._

 _People around them cheer for a moment, and then go back to talking, no longer paying them any attention now that the show is over. Which suits him nicely._

 _Trying to look casual, he gives Anna a small smile and a nod, and heads to the opposite side of the room._

 _The memory of her lips seems to burns his. Damn mistletoe and its side effects._

 _Unable to decide what to do, John lingers for a moment next to the table full of food. Somebody has restocked the supply of eggnog, but he should definitely be kept away from that. He is not really hungry either._

 _He tries to engage with conversation with a couple of co-workers, but soon after they decide to go to the dance floor as well, and he is left alone with his thoughts. He really needs to get going, if he wants to keep some dignity left in him._

 _With a small amount of calculation, John makes a wide circle on his way to the exit in order to avoid Robert. The small office where the coats have been stored for the evening is right next to the exit. Now he just has to find his, buried in a mountain of fabric._

 _He stops at the door, trying to understand if it's fate or just bad timing. The person inside turns around at the sound of his steps._

" _I just wanted to-"_

" _Mine seems to be buried-"_

 _Anna chuckles and so does he. "Which colour is yours?" She asks._

" _Is that brown one over there…"_

" _This one?" She holds a jacket for him to consider._

" _No, maybe…" he approaches her just as she turns around unexpectedly. Again they are facing each other, the smallest of empty space between them._

 _Her smile widens. "Now this brings back a memory."_

 _John chuckles again. He seems to be doing that a lot lately. "A long forgotten one?" He offers._

" _Not quite. Unforgettable, more likely."_

" _Aha."_

" _Only, I think it didn't go quite as it should have."_

" _Really?" He is barely listening now, as she seems to move a fraction of an inch closer. He is unable to register that his body is mirroring hers. "I liked it, though." He doesn't seem to control his own speech either._

" _Me too," she nods. "But it could've been better."_

" _We had an audience," he says, and it sounds as if he is making excuses._

" _Not an ideal setting," she agrees._

" _I hate mistletoe."_

 _She lets out a little laugh and looks up. "There's none here."_

" _Good."_

 _Now it's no gentle touch, nor a small innocent display of a very silly Christmas tradition. As her lips capture his and his hands take her waist rather possessively, he doesn't think about the consequences of being interrupted or about the fact the he doesn't really know her at all. The world, colleagues, bosses, Christmas decorations and music seem to have disappeared, leaving only her warm body behind. And he is lucky enough to be the one touching it._

* * *

Just until the elevator. And then out of it. And then she'll be free, or, more precisely, on a Bates'-free floor.

Besides, it's ridiculously early. Anna very much doubts he would come into the office before 8 am. But then, she really doesn't know him at all. Maybe he is an early bird. It's too late to go back now that she has entered the revolving doors of the building, but wouldn't it have been better if she had come at peak hour, when the hall and elevators are bustling with people that could shield her from her own embarrassment?

For once, luck is in on her side. And this is quite an ironic idea, since that is exactly what she thought that night when she had found herself in front of him under the mistletoe. Of course, that's a memory that needs to be completely erased from her mind. Now.

Not that it is an unpleasant memory, though, but this thought has to go, too.

Mary arrives not much later and calls her into her office. It takes her a lot of effort to stay focused, as her boss talks nonstop about this wonderful idea she and her partner Tom have had over the festivities, which would mean expanding the business while maintaining its essence… or something like that. Anna takes notes, mechanically, hoping she will be able to make something out of them later.

When her boss mentions the upcoming 10 o'clock meeting on the floor below, though, Anna is snapped back to full attention. No, not the floor below. Not today, of all days.

"We never work with them." She manages to repeat what the same Mary is always saying regarding her father and the other half of the company. "We don't want to get too close."

"I know that's how we _used to work_ ," she emphasises. "But we have thought it through and want to try this one venture. It might be beneficial to get together with them once in a while."

That's a very unfortunate choice of words, Anna thinks, but nods mechanically. Of course, Mary cannot read her mind, and she considers dying before telling why is it that she'd rather stay upstairs for her entire life.

Still, there is no saying she will bump into him, Anna thinks trying to calm down her own panic. And even if that happens, Mary will be with her. He wouldn't risk saying something compromising or embarrassing in front of her, right? Right?

She learns soon enough that he wouldn't. When they enter the meeting, there are only two other people sitting at the large meeting table. Robert, Mary's father and the owner of the company, and his assistant. One John Bates.

"There you are," Robert says jovially, both men standing up.

Mary walks over her father and gives him a peck on the cheek. Then she addresses the other man "Good morning. Bates."

"Hello."

Anna is just speechless, but none of them seem to notice, as they all take seats.

"So…" Robert starts.

"Does anybody want some coffee? Mary? Anna?" Bates asks, and she has to look up from the notebook she has been pretending to be reading. He is looking at their bosses, and then his eyes rest on hers. Is that the shadow of a cheeky smile? Does he remember, just as she does, the last time he offered her coffee, less than one week before?

"Yes, please," Mary says.

"Not for me, thanks."

"What?" Mary looks at her incredulously. "You just said on the elevator you could kill for one cup right now."

Anna feels herself blush up to the roots of her hair, while a murderous instinct directed towards her boss seems to erupt inside her. A moment later a cup is placed right in front of her and she looks up to find Bates, now clearly smirking.

"So," Robert repeats. "Business."

Mary takes a deep breath as her full professional demeanour kicks in. "As you know, the new vacation spot in the Lake District is doing well. More than well. The idea now is to venture into something different."

"Not too different," Robert chimes in.

"Slightly different," Mary appeases him.

"Three star hotels are not that slightly different," Bates interrupts. Just like her, he must have been briefed about this before the meeting. "There are some things to consider in terms of logistic, staff, marketing department-"

"It's not that it is another world, though," Anna suddenly feels she has to jump in support of Mary's idea. "We know our deal, we can make it work."

"Yes, of course," Bates says, "but not on expenses of what we've already got."

"We never would-"

"That's why you two will be in charge of the project," Robert interjects. Anna feels the blood on her veins freeze. This is exactly the worst possible outcome of what was just the one thoughtless, impulsive night of her life. Oblivious to the riot inside her, the boss keeps on talking. "Before starting looking for investors, we need to come up with a scenario that will consider every detail. And nobody knows what happens here quite as you both do."

"The idea is to try for something new," Mary ignores her father slight cringe. "While maintaining our known position. And in the meantime make it all accessible to a broader public."

And in the meantime sink me into the depths of utter embarrassment, Anna thinks. In front of her, Bates just nods, apparently unperturbed.

"So now you two sort out your agendas and get it started as soon as possible." Mary continues.

"It would be great if you could hand us a report a week after New Year's."

It's the 28th. Trust the Crawleys to want things done for yesterday. But that's the last of Anna's concerns.

"What about we gather information of our respective areas and meet again tomorrow morning?" Bates proposes, looking straight at her.

"We'll leave you to it," Robert suddenly jumps onto his feet. "Mary, darling, your mother wants me to give you something. I have it in my office."

Father and daughter leave, and the glass door closes with a rather ominous click.

Anna makes a point of scrolling down her agenda on her phone. "Tomorrow works for me, 10 am," she agrees, sounding as cold and professional as she can muster.

"Here?" Bates suggests.

She has to think about that one for a moment. Their meeting rooms are much nicer than the ones upstairs, but she is not exactly comfortable about sitting on this glass box, at plain sight of the entire office. Maybe that's for the best, though. She almost laughs at her own thought. What is she expecting? Them wanting to jump into the other's arms?

"I rather have it upstairs." In my own territory. He just nods.

She stands up, closing her notebook with rather excessive force, and heads to the door.

"Er… Anna?"

She has to turn around.

"Yes, Mr Bates?"

For the first time he seems to be a little uncomfortable.

"I hope whatever previous encounters we might have had in the past won't affect the fact that we now have to work together…?" He trails off.

Now she has to glare at him. _Previous encounters_.

"Not at all, Mr Bates." And now her voice is as stiff as she can manage. "You will be pleased to know I'm nothing but a professional."

And with that she leaves the room, without so much as a glance back.

* * *

 **AN: Thanks very much for reading. There's nothing like some awkward job atmosphere full with regrets- Although I fell sorry for them. Nah, not really.**

 **Happy 2016!**


	3. Chapter 3

This is just business. She is just a colleague. Whatever happened before is now irrelevant. He has been repeating those three phrases all morning inside his head. Maybe if he sticks to them, he would end up believing them to be true.

Still, her behaviour the previous day has left him baffled. He would have expected for it to be awkward, for her to be embarrassed, or even what he went for at the beginning: try to pretend nothing happened. What he wasn't ready for was for her to be so angry about it all. So angry, in fact, he felt rather insulted.

Whatever happened the night of the Christmas party, it wasn't certainly his fault. He would never have danced with her if she hadn't been so insistent. Let alone kiss her. The thought that she somehow seems to think he is guilty of something irritates him to no end. He had asked, hadn't he? She had agreed, hadn't she?

John takes a deep sigh before going out the lift, and then another one before entering the meeting room they are going to use.

Maybe it doesn't have to be bad, he part thinks, part hopes, as he takes the seat Anna is pointing.

One hour later it's obvious he has been mistaken. By the next day it's even worse and he has completely forgotten he had once felt optimistic, even if just slightly.

"You can't pretend to redo our whole marketing department just to host this small new idea! It doesn't make any sense!"

"Who said I want to redo it? I'm just saying there are some obvious parts of it that would benefit from a revision! Plus, we need something new for this."

"What is the obsession with you people and 'something new'?" John is barely succeeding on keeping him from yelling, but only just.

"Obsession? What obsession? Just because you people cringe whenever something slightly diverse from your ways come along-!"

"Our ways work!"

"Ours too! And as far as I know, this company has improved enormously since Mary left the pigtails and joined in!"

"You wouldn't know, you weren't even born!" That's a very low blow and he knows it, but her stubbornness is making it almost impossible for him to control his temper.

"I'll let you know I can read! And learn! Which is something some of the old crew could try, for a change."

Well, she wasn't above low blows either, then.

"What does that has to do with reformulating our entire organisation?"

"How am I supposed to know? You're the one who keeps using those words. 'Redo', 'reformulate'," she sneers, drawing quotation marks in the air. "Maybe that's been your idea all along, only you want to chuck it to me, just because you're too scared to try out new things without backup."

"That's not true!"

"Makes sense. So, if something goes wrong you can always blame the rookie!"

"So you consider yourself a rookie, then."

She huffs and pinches the bridge of her nose. To do something other than sit and stare, he stands up and gets himself a glass of water. He supposes it would be only decent to offer her one, but he doesn't feel like it. This is hardly the first discussion they've had. The previous day, disagreements begun about ten minutes into the meeting. Half an hour later, it was rapidly escalating into a shouting match that had to be abruptly cut short when Anna remembered she was supposed to have lunch with Mary and both had to do their best not to panic at their absolute lack of results.

Today the shouting has started much earlier and it has barely stopped since they walked into the small meeting room. Everything, from the location of the premises, the economic aspects, the purchases and the possible selection of candidates has become a fighting matter.

Anna looks at her wristwatch and John does the same. It's almost one.

"We can't go on like this, Mr Bates," she finally says with a deep sigh.

"What do you propose?"

"Let's go somewhere else. Let's… let's have lunch." She doesn't sound the slightest bit enthusiastic but, for the first time in two days, he sees her point.

Instead of going to one of the nearby bistros, she suggests a restaurant some blocks away. Again, he has to admit he agrees. The last thing they need is a colleague eavesdropping on them.

They sit and do not speak to one another until their order is placed.

"I propose a truce." She says without preamble. "I just don't think we are as different as it seems. I think we are quarrelling for something else entirely and, if that's the case, we need a truce. Otherwise this whole scheme we are supposed to be working on won't be ready on time."

"I agree."

She seems taken aback by his sudden lack of argument.

"Do you?"

"Of course. We have to be sensible and behave. If only for this projects' sake."

Anna nods, sighs, and quite suddenly, chuckles.

"I thought this would take much longer."

"What?"

"Convince you to stop hostilities. We don't even have to stay for lunch now."

For the first time in what seems like an eternity, he manages to smile at her. She smiles back and he is frankly relieved. "We are here, aren't we?" He says. "We might as well get through with it."

She nods, and stares at her fork as if it were the most fascinating thing on Earth. He is not sure about what to do with himself either, and is relieved the moment the plates arrive.

They eat in silence for a while. He has the strong feeling he needs to take this opportunity to smooth things over a bit, if he can. Before he can decide what to say or how, though, she speaks again.

"Why are you so angry with me?"

He almost drops his fork in surprise. "Me? Why are _you_ so angry with _me_?"

"I'm not!"

"Of course you are."

"I'm not! Whatever gave you that idea?"

He arches his eyebrows. "Do you really need the complete list or should I just stick to the major points of it?"

"Now you're being nasty."

He sighs. "Maybe I am. But you have to admit you make a good impression of being angry with me."

"That's only because you're always so aggressive!"

"Aggressive?" He says, realising a second too late he is almost yelling. "Aggressive?" He repeats, in an almost whisper. She chuckles and he is glad he made that happen.

"Well…" she speaks after a moment. "If I am to be honest, I was rather angry with myself."

Aha. Finally.

"How come?"

"I…" She plays a little with the food on her plate. "I… you know…"

"Honestly, I don't. I wouldn't be asking otherwise."

Anna sighs. "It's this whole Christmas business. That wasn't supposed to have happened."

"So you're angry with yourself for letting it happen?" He offers, feeling his heart sink, rather inexplicably. It had been a mistake, hasn't it? So, if that is the case, why does it make him feel sad the fact that she is regretting it? Isn't he regretting it as well?

"No… not exactly," her cheeks are suddenly pink. "I sort of… had fun…" she trailed off. "The point is," she continued more firmly, "I didn't know how to behave afterwards. I thought that, since we usually don't see much of each other, it would be fine. Only this came up, and I think I've been behaving as a fool and _that's_ what's making me angry."

He stared at her for a long moment, until he realises she is waiting for him to say something.

"I thought you were blaming me for that night. And that's why you were angry."

At this she laughs, and he gives a reluctant chuckle of his own.

"I couldn't possibly! I… oh my God, are we really having this conversation?" She covers her face with her hands and the next words come out muffled. "I was there!" She looks up again. "I am as guilty as anybody!"

It all came back to him like a tidal wave. He had been wondering for the past two days what he could have found attractive about her, besides the looks. And even considering that, how he could have fallen for it without realising she was the most stubborn, exasperating woman on Earth?

"As guilty as me." He hears himself say as he contemplates her again, on a new light. The bright eyes, the promise of a smile in the corner of her lips. Lips that he remembers having kissed thoroughly, enjoying himself so much.

"If you wish."

Both look at each other for a moment.

"So?" She finally says, fishing a tomato out of her plate. "We've agreed to stop hostilities."

"Oh yes, please. It's getting tiresome."

She nods. "We should do something about the awkwardness as well, then."

"It is rather awkward, isn't it?"

"Well," she said business-like. "It's up to us to stop that. No more awkwardness."

He smiles and offers her his hand. Anna shakes her firmly. "Agreed," he says, and without really knowing why, he retains her hand in his for just a fraction of a second longer before letting her go.

* * *

" _That's the way I thought I must be done," she sighs, the moment his lips let go of hers. "Properly."_

" _Aha," his voice is hoarse. "I think you've made your point. But, you know, there's always room for improvement."_

 _She giggles. "You're right."_

 _His mouth is on her again, and she is glad the alcohol seems to be wearing off, because this is definitely worth the attention of all her senses. Now it's not just his mouth. His hands, which until a moment ago were on her waist, have pulled her closer and are now going down her sides, caressing her hips over the fabric of her jumper. Her hands seem to be doing some work of their own, touching the nape of his neck, burying into his hair._

 _She pulls apart for a moment and is delighted at the sight of him all ruffled and almost panting._

" _Better?" he asked, a mischievous smile dancing in his eyes._

 _She frowns, although she doesn't mean it. "Yes… I'd say so."_

" _Not perfect, though."_

 _She chuckles at his mock seriousness. "Perfect is a big word, Mr Bates."_

" _Is it?" he says, now dipping his head down and placing kisses on her neck. She gasps. "Then we obviously have to master this, right?"_

" _R… right." she manages to stutter._

" _So, what if we take this somewhere else?"_

 _Her heart stops beating then and there. And after a moment, it just makes up for all the missing beats at once. Is he saying what she thinks he's saying?_

" _What do you propose?" She hopes she is managing to sound nonchalant._

" _My flat is just around the corner."_

" _How very convenient."_

" _Indeed."_

 _She can't remember the walk, or if it was cold or freezing, raining or snowing. Suddenly she is at his door, and he is opening it, and both fumble with the other's coat as he closes it behind his back._

 _Their kisses have grown bolder, and his hands seem to be everywhere, as hers try to keep up. He pushes her gently and she feels she's walking backwards through a corridor and into a bedroom._

 _For a moment it occurs to her that she has never done this before. She had had sex with very few blokes and absolutely never in this casual sort of way._

 _Anna is way past the point of worrying about it, though._

 _She had fancied Mr Bates for a long time, in a sort of platonic, distant way, never really considering the possibility of something coming out of it. He is serious. Respectable. A good deal older than her. And so very attractive._

 _She feels her legs bump into something soft and she looks around. He has successfully navigated them both to his bed._

 _His kissing has stopped and he looks suddenly shy. "Is this…?" he starts, his hands never leaving her waist. "Are you… ok with this?"_

 _She just nods before capturing his lips with hers again._

 _So, they work together. So, they haven't really talked before. So, this is going to have some uncomfortable consequences in the morning._

 _So, are his hands really doing_ that?

 _She is most definitely past the point of worrying._

 _Anna plays with the buttons of his shirt and one of them come loose. Apparently too distracted with kissing her neck again - oh God, yes - he doesn't seem to mind. She undoes the next button, and then the next, and a moment later she makes him stop kissing her, just to take both his shirt and undershirt off. He isn't wasting his time either, and suddenly she feels her pants being unbuttoned and pulled down, and her jumper joins them in the floor not long after._

" _You're so beautiful," he whispers, hugging her closer. The warmth of his body is making hers anticipate what is about to come, as she feels him hard against her._

 _For once forgetting the urge that seems to have driven them, he pushes them over the duvet, slowly, almost reverently, before his lips gently touch hers. It's even more exciting than those heated kisses from before._

 _His hands now venture lower, tracing slow paths on her legs, her calves, toying with her knickers. As she pulls them down, eager to feel him completely, he takes off his pants and Anna is glad nothing will stop this from happening._

 _His hands start at her feet, slowly going up her legs, alternating between soft touches and gentle squeezes. She moans, she can't help it, and she can see in his expression he is enjoying taunting her very very much. She can't say she's sorry, as one of his fingers bushes that hot spot in her body that seems to be pulsing. He does it again, more firmly, and again, and she blindly reaches for a pillow to moan into, as his fingers enter her, slowly exploring, looking for the right spots as her back arches on its own accord._

" _Oh, John," she manages, realising she is using his given name. He seems to have noticed it too, as he chuckles and kisses her fiercely, his fingers never stopping to caress her._

 _She feels the heat increasing, her pulse much faster now, and as he whispers in her ear how much he has wished for all this to happen, she loses control and whimpers, collapsing on the mattress, her breathing ragged._

 _It takes her a moment to open her eyes again. At her side he is propped on his elbow, his right hand caressing her stomach ever so softly and slowly._

" _You're smirking," she says, arching an eyebrow._

" _Am I?"_

 _She nods, and moves to sit on his lap, one leg at each side of his hips. "You are." She bends low to kiss him, while her hand caresses his chest, his stomach, his hips. When she finally touches her, she is sure she is smirking as well, as he groans into her mouth._

 _It encourages her to caress further, faster, but a moment later she feels his hands firm on her hips. He is guiding her and she doesn't want to stop him. When he enters her she cries his name, and hears hers being called in return._

* * *

 **AN: Thanks everybody for reading and reviewing! I wanted to answer to you personally, but something's been wrong with the system lately and I just can't. I hope it gets fixed soon. In the meantime I just want to thank you all for your support.**


	4. Chapter 4

There was no escape from it. Again. At least this won't be an office meeting. He has been invited because he is one of Robert's oldest friends. He doesn't even expect to know many of the guests, which suits him nicely.

As John adjusts the knot of his tie, looking at his image in the mirror of the hotel room that has been assigned to him, he decides he will just stay for a short while. Say hello to Robert, Cora and the girls. Maybe talk for a bit to Carson or Rosamund. Patiently wait until midnight and then make sure he is seen hugging them so nobody would complain he went before the New Year.

Then he will run for it.

He wished he could run _home_ for it, but alas, that is out of the question.

Just like every year, the Crawleys were throwing a New Year's party at the company's main hotel in Yorkshire, Downton Abbey. He has actually spent a good part of that day driving up here, while making a mental list of all the favours he owes Robert, which are many. Yes, he most definitely has to be here, even though he'd rather not.

When he enters the room assigned to him, he decides to make the most of it. It is, after all, the most luxurious of their luxurious hotels. And a beautiful, enormous house at that. He has been here before, more than once, but he enjoys it every time.

After one last glance at his image on the mirror, he exits the room. Dinner will be served at 10 and he most definitely doesn't want to miss that.

Downstairs is fairly crowded. He bumps into Mary, who doesn't wait a second to ask him how their new project is going.

"Fine," he says at once, trying to push out of his mind those two very unsuccessful meetings with Anna.

"Do you think it's worth a shot, then?"

"Well…" he has really no idea. "I think it's still too early to say. We should check the information very carefully."

Mary snorts. "Does Anna agree with that?"

"Oh yes. We were just talking about that two days ago over lunch."

"I'm glad," she says, and then she is gone.

John can only hope Anna would say something similar if she is asked, any time soon.

Which puts a very unsettling thought in his head. She won't come tonight, right?

As far as he knows, she has never been invited to the Crawley's for New Year's. Or maybe she has, only she couldn't make it before? But that doesn't necessary mean she won't be here tonight.

He has to admit, though, that since her promotion to Mary's personal assistant, both women seem to have grown quite close. Were they just close as colleagues, or have they become friends?

With an almost audible groan, he decides he shouldn't care either way. Even if she's here, so are many people. They won't necessarily meet. And even if they do, the last time they have seen each other they have parted in very reasonable terms. Almost friendly.

And no matter how many times John repeats all this on his mind, he can't help glancing at the stairs and the front door every now and then. Even to his own eyes he is being pathetic, really.

He is right in the middle of a conversation to Carson when he finally sees her. He has to make a double check. It is her, all right, and she looks stunning in that midnight blue dress. He doesn't remember ever seen her on a dress before. She comes down the stairs - so she is staying here as well, isn't she? - and for a moment she looks lost. Then Edith, Mary's younger sister, is at her side, and she smiles.

"John?" Carson is looking at him curiously, and John realises he doesn't really know what they are talking about anymore. Anna is heading in his direction and, all of a sudden, panic strikes him. She hasn't seen him, surely.

"I'm sorry, Charlie. I have to get some…" and without even bothering to finish the sentence, he is off. Taking advantage of a group of elderly people animatedly chatting around one of the buffet table, he shields himself from view. Anna and Edith have stopped to talk to another group of people, right on the other side of the room.

Why he is hiding from her, he has no idea. If he thought he was being pathetic before, it is nothing compared to how he feels now. Still, he stays near the group, and when he sees Anna moving to a nearby table, he walks away, trying to look casual.

"Are you all right?" Robert makes him jump.

"Fine, why do you ask?"

"I don't know. You look strange."

"I'm not," John makes a point of taking one empty plate and putting some cheese on it, although he's already have plenty of that. "Having fun?" he asks, trying to change the subject.

"Oh yes. It'll get better after midnight, when the music starts properly."

"Can't wait."

Robert arches an eyebrow. "There's no need to be sarcastic. Some of us are humans, have you noticed?"

John just nods, distractedly. He can't see her anymore, but he doesn't want to be too obvious. "Quite a number of people this year," he says, using his casual comment to take a look around the hall. Nothing.

"No more than last year, I think." Robert keeps on looking at him. "Bates, are you sure you're all right?"

"Yes, yes, I am."

"I'll see if everything is in order. If something's the matter, would you please avoid being your usual self and tell us?"

"Sure. Nothing to worry about."

Still, Robert rolls his eyes at him before walking over to the other end of the table, where champagne is being served. John considers joining him for a moment, but he stops himself. He won't touch a drop of alcohol tonight. Not while Anna is on a four mile radius. He just doesn't trust himself when she is around.

It's just then he realises she seems to be coming his way again, and this time he doesn't know where to go without making it too obvious. Only she changes her curse, rather abruptly, and he almost sighs. It feels weird, though. Shouldn't he just go ahead and greet her? Won't a "hello, how do you do?" do the trick?

Still he doesn't, and heads to the restrooms instead. He wishes they were empty, but there are not and he feels even more foolish, if possible, while he makes a point of washing his hands, rather thoroughly. No. He has to go out and stop behaving like a prat.

"Oh, Bates, there you are." Mary approaches him just as he gets back into the hall, two glasses of champagne in her hands. "Here."

He frowns at her. "Thanks. What's this for?"

"You look as if you need one. Come with me for a moment. Dad asked me to look for you."

"I was just talking to him a moment ago."

"I don't know about that." She says, taking his arm in hers and walking towards the large panned windows that look outside, to the snow-covered gardens. John has heard people in the office calling Mary "bossy" more than once. He thinks that's the understatement of the century.

"Oh, there you are," Robert is not alone there. Next to him, looking rather uncomfortable-

"Hello, Mr Bates."

"Oh. Hi, Anna."

She seems to be blushing slightly, or perhaps it's the light that makes her look that way.

"Well, I need to understand this," Robert is saying. "You told Mary things needed to be thought over a little longer."

Something very unpleasant seems to have just located in John's throat. "Yes," he says tentatively.

"While Anna here tells me all you have worked over these days tells us to do it."

"Well, we do need to do some research-"

"Certainly it all seems to point out to-"

Robert and Mary are frowning. "You two _are_ working on the same project, are you?" Mary asks.

"Of course," John says. "It's just a matter of interpretation."

"We've been looking at the information from the last twenty years. Our own company is doing more than good, but we have to check the others."

He looks at her appreciatively. "We will get through all of that next week," he adds.

At this Robert smiles. "You two got me worried for a second there."

"No need to worry, none at all," John prompts, trying to put into his voice a certainty he isn't feeling.

"Good. Excuse me, I need to find Matthew." And with that Mary goes away.

All around them, people are being louder, getting on their feet and moving around a lot. "I'm off too," Robert says.

John glances at Anna, she is looking at her own glass of champagne as if she'd never seen the likes of it before.

"'All we have worked'?" He can't stop from asking her with a sneer.

"Well, I couldn't tell him we haven't done any work at all! And he just cornered me out of the blue!"

"You could be noncommittal."

"Really? I'd like to see you try!"

"Well, I did! Or who do you think your boss was talking to earlier today?"

People are really loud now, and John barely registers the countdown. "Ten! Nine!..."

"Oh geez, now we're in trouble." She says.

"Not yet. We still have a week to sort this out."

"Would it be enough, though?"

"Five! Four! Three!..."

"It'll have to-"

He suddenly realises what's going on around them. Anna seems to realise it, too, and looks at him, wide-eyed, as everybody raise glasses.

"Two! One!"

"Oh crap," he mumbles, looking at his own untouched glass.

"Happy New Year!"

Rearing voices erupt all around them, friends hug, couples kiss, and he has the feeling Anna and he are the only survivors of the sinking of a cruise, standing alone on a tiny isle.

"I-" She stutters.

"Oh, bollocks." And with a swift moment he captures her waist and places his lips on hers, deciding right there and then that his brain needs to shut down for a long time.

* * *

She opens her eyes and stretches her arms; despite everything, she can't help but smile at her most recent memories.

At her side, he stirs and sighs. Apparently both of them are awake. She looks out the window. It's still pitch black outside and she knows she won't be able to just sneak back into her room. She very much doubts she wants to, to be honest.

"So…" Anna hears him say, his voice a little hoarse from his previous ministrations.

"So…" she echoes, knowing she should be anywhere else but here, and yet it is warm and comfortable and-

"Are you…?"

She decides to risk looking at him. He is propped on one elbow and looks back into her eyes.

"Am I…?"

He chuckles, he is blushing. "I really don't know what to say."

"Neither do I," her eyes don't seem to want to leave his, though.

"I thought we decided this wouldn't be awkward," he finally manages.

She sighs, propping her head on her elbow, too, while making sure she is properly covered with the sheets, ridiculous as that is in their present circumstances. Still, she feels rather exposed under the soft golden light of the single lamp that's on.

"Well, I don't think either of us thought about _this_ situation happening again when we made that pact."

"No…" he looks thoughtful, "you're right."

Anna feels slightly uncomfortable under his gaze, and she looks at the white sheets between them. "I thought we decided we wouldn't have sex again."

"What?" His indignant voice makes her look at him again, and she really likes the playful glint in his eyes. "We never decided anything of the sort. What a waste!"

She now chuckles, she can't help herself. "We seem to be rather good at this, don't we?" She says, feeling terribly bold.

"Indeed." He says, and she sees his hand slowly move until he cups her cheek. "You are so beautiful."

Her face feels hot and there is something very strange in the situation, but she realises she doesn't want him to stop. "How much have you had to drink, Mr Bates?"

"Nothing," his voice is husky, as his hand move across her cheek and down to her neck. "And it's John." She closes her eyes at his caress until his voice makes her open them again. "How much have _you_ had to drink?"

"Well, you didn't even let me touch that glass of champagne." She raises a hand of her own, suddenly less uncomfortable, and touches his hair. She likes the way it's ruffled. "So, nothing."

"Good," he says, before leaning down to touch her lips with his, slowly, so carefully, and yet it sends her heart racing.

She should stop him, she knows she should, but she just can't. She won't. As his hand moves to her hip and his body presses against hers, she loses the ability to think. There's nothing but them, ragged breathing and moans, and she will stop worrying, if only for a moment of blissful release.

When they finally collapse together again, she is breathless. Time seems to have stood still. He is lying on top of her, his head buried on the crook of her neck and she supposed his body over hers ought to feel heavy, only it doesn't.

"Oh god," she mumbles.

"God?" He heaves his body with his elbows. "I know I'm good, but that might be exaggerating."

She chuckles. "Who said you're that good?"

"You, just a moment ago."

Both laugh now. She smacks him playfully on the upper arm. "You cheeky beggar."

"You beautiful woman."

This sobers her up in an instant. "Do you mean it?"

"Of course I mean it."

"I thought..." she feels she's blushing again. "I thought you were only saying it to get into my knickers."

He shakes his head slowly, looking rather solemn. With the tip of his finger he traces the side of her cheek. "You are beautiful, Anna. And this, amazing as it is, has nothing to do with it." He rolls to her side and she is sorry to miss the feeling of his warm body over hers.

She knows he is still looking at her, but she can't hold his gaze anymore. Sadness is creeping over her, that feeling of a missed opportunity she had when she first woke up that morning in his flat. That feeling that had followed her during the past few days whenever she was to think about Mr Bates.

"Anna?" his voice is soft. "What is it?"

She wants to look at him and brush it off, say it's nothing, laugh, and maybe get some sleep. One look into his eyes tells her she won't. He looks genuinely concerned. He looks as if he cared.

"I… I really… you'd think… oh I don't know how to say this."

He takes a strand of her hair and gently places behind her ear. "Take all the time you need."

It's so intimate a gesture she takes strength from it.

"You know you asked me why I was angry? The other day at lunch?"

He nods. Maybe he doesn't want to interrupt her with his own words.

"I said it was because I didn't know how to behave after… you know."

"Yes…"

She feels suddenly uncomfortable, and she shifts, taking the sheets with her, until her back is resting on the headboard.

"It's true. Only, not entirely true."

He shuffles as well, and now he's sitting right next to her, his eyes fixed on hers.

"Then…?"

She looks at the wall in front of them. "Oh well… I really wanted what happened then, but not like that. You see… the truth is… I've always liked you, Mr Bates. A great deal."

His eyes are wide open. "But then…?"

"But then going to bed with you, like that… it just ruined it all. I didn't want it to go like this, so fast, and meaningless, and being just about sex. When I realised it, I was so angry with myself, with the situation, with the world. How could I be so stupid when all I wanted… all I want…" He has placed a finger over her lips and she has to look at him again.

"Anna, would you like to have a cup of coffee with me sometime?"

"Would I-?"

"And maybe dinner afterwards?"

"I…" for a moment she is speechless. Is he mocking her?

"Because, you see, I like you very much. Very much indeed. Always have. And I know we haven't done things properly, but I want to. I really do."

"Why didn't you ask me before?" she manages, although that's not exactly what she wants to say. He likes her. Not as in having sex with her. He seems to genuinely like her.

"Never thought you'd say yes. Which, by the way," there's a mischievous glow in his eyes, "you haven't yet." She grins, appreciating the fact that he's trying to lighten up the mood.

"I would very much like that cup of coffee, John." He beams at the sound of his name and she realises she likes the way it rolls off her tongue. "And dinner."

"Many dinners."

She chuckles. "Many dinners, then."

"And," he moves closer, until he can embrace his shoulders with his arm, "if we happened to end up in this situation again, I don't think I'll complain. Only, trust me, that's not what I want the most."

"What's what you want the most, then?" She thinks she knows the answer, but she needs to hear it, nonetheless.

"You. Just you. Stubborn and feisty and grumpy and beautiful and brilliant you. That's all I ask."

* * *

 **AN: Thanks very very much for all your support! You are great and make this journey much more interesting than it is.**


	5. Chapter 5

The presentation is flawless. Charts, graphs and figures flash on the screen, while Anna and John make their point.

It seems, after all, that this will be a good investment.

Finally John stands up to turn up the lights. Robert thanks them effusively. Mary, a little less so, but she is smiling nonetheless.

Anna and John look at each other and smile. Maybe the moment lasts a little more than what's necessary between colleagues. Nobody mentions this, though. When the meeting ends, he opens the door for her and his hand rests at her lower back while, together, both exit the conference room.

"See? There was something." Mary is smirking.

"I always said so. I was the one who saw them under the mistletoe, don't forget that."

"Maybe. But I was the one always insisting on putting them to do something together."

Both chuckle.

"Will they last, though?" Robert asks.

"That depends…" Mary is thoughtful. "On Bates being able to stop himself from ruining this by being his usual pessimistic self."

"Or on Anna not pushing him too soon into things he's not ready for."

Now they laugh again, and make a silent toast with their coffee cups.

"Was this a good idea, though?"

Mary raises her eyebrows. "Financially, it's brilliant. I don't know why didn't we think about joining both our efforts and theirs before."

"No, darling, I mean humanly."

She scoffs.

"We can always sack them if they start snogging senseless in the meeting room."

xxXXXxx

* * *

 **AN: Because I love it when Mary smirks.**

 **Thank you very very much for reading and leaving such kind reviews! Writing this has been fun!**


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